Lost I: Losing You
by Sim Spider
Summary: AU, set before Hometown Hero S2. The team is rocked by the sudden death of one of their own.
1. Too Close To Home

Losing You

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

I swear, I wrote this like a year before Bury Your Dead aired. Great minds, huh?

AU, set in season two before Hometown Hero.

/\/\/\

Chapter One: Too Close to Home

/\/\/\

Gibbs was awoken from his usual sleeping place – under his boat – by the harsh ringing of his cell phone. Stiffly, his muscles cramping from his uncomfortable bed, the NCIS agent rolled over and after some scrabbling, managed to locate the device amid his tools.

"Gibbs," he grunted, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Special Agent Gibbs, this is Detective Calhoon of Metro PD. We've just identified a blue 1990 Corvette involved in a fatal RTA tonight as belonging to one of your people, an Agent…"

Cold dread coursed through Gibbs, waking him more effectively than a bucket of ice water and a gallon of coffee.

"DiNozzo," he said quietly. "Is he ok? What happened?"

"The car went off the road and hit a tree between fifth and Jefferson. Gas tank ignited almost immediately; the driver had no chance to get out. There's no guarantee that it's your guy, but…"

"But it's his car, which makes this my case. Preserve the scene, detective. If any of the evidence is contaminated before my people get there…"

"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but the scene has already been processed and the vehicle towed. It took us some time to ID the car."

"Then I want everything you have sent to NCIS immediately, including the body. I'll meet you at the scene in one hour to go over the sequence of events."

"I thought you might say that," replied Calhoon. "Evidence is on its way." He shook his head in disbelief when Gibbs hung up without another word. Man must be hell to work for, he thought.

Gibbs, however, was more concerned with calling Tony's cell, praying that he was alive and safe in some bar with a giggling blonde.

"Hey, this is Tony's phone," came the familiar cheery tones on the voicemail. "Leave a message and I'll get back to you; unless you're Gibbs, because then you're gonna kill me for not answering."

Gibbs cursed and tried his landline with the same result.

"Oh, Tony," he said aloud. "What have you got yourself into this time?"

/\/\/\

"As you can see, Agent Gibbs," said Calhoon, gesturing to the tyre skid laid down by Tony's beloved classic car. "It seems pretty clear- cut. Tyre blew out around here, driver overcorrected the spin and this tree got in his way. Poor bastard was probably out cold before the fire started; at least I hope so."

"Witnesses? Security cameras?" Barked Gibbs.

"No witnesses, unless you count the guy who called 911. By the time he arrived the car was already in flames. Not much in the way of cameras around here either, but if you pull the tapes from the surrounding streets you might get him on his way, maybe figure out his route."

Tony's apartment was only four blocks over. Gibbs really hoped that was a coincidence, contrary to his usual assertion that there was no such thing. He made sure to make some noise as he entered so as not to startle Kate and McGee, who were already searching it.

"Find anything?" He asked abruptly.

"Tony owns every DVD ever made," said Kate. "Other than that, nothing. It's tidy; maybe the people who took him cleaned up after themselves?"

"Or maybe no one took him," said McGee. "There's a note on the fridge to the maid telling her he'll be back late and her money's in the usual place."

"That could just mean he hasn't been home," said Gibbs. "He mention any plans for tonight?"

"I think he said something about an old buddy being in town," said Kate. "They were going for a beer, but I don't know where. I wasn't really listening; you know how he gets."

"Yeah, Kate, I know. McGee, go back to the office and pull Tony's phone records. I want to know who he met and where they went."

"Yes, boss," said McGee, grabbing his bag and hurrying out.

"And make sure you take Abby some of that caffeine crap she likes," Gibbs called after his junior agent.

"Gibbs?" Kate asked, allowing her voice to tremble slightly. "Do you think…? Is he…?"

"I don't know where Tony is, Kate," he replied gently, before his voice hardened. "But I intend to find out. And if anyone's hurt him, they will pay." Looking into her boss' piercing blue eyes, Kate suddenly felt almost sorry for them.

/\/\/\

The friend, Brett Saddler, had been an old college buddy Tony hadn't seen in years. They found him still in the bar where they'd met, well on his way to drinking himself into oblivion while drooling over an equally inebriated brunette. He could only tell them that Tony had left, alone, around eleven, after nursing a single beer for over an hour. He'd said he had work in the morning and if he showed up late or hungover his boss would fire his ass. The bartender confirmed Brett's story; and the two NCIS agents had no proof that the evidence wasn't as straightforward as it seemed.

/\/\/\

"Tell me you have something, Ducky," said Gibbs, striding into autopsy where his friend was examining a set of dental x- rays intently.

"I do, Jethro," the ME said, his voice full of sorrow. "But it's not good. I'm afraid the x-rays indicate that it was indeed our Anthony in the driver's seat."

/\/\/\

I can't help it. I have a certified medical condition known as Evil Cliffhanger Woman Syndrome (ECWS). The only known treatment is lots and lots of reviews…


	2. Denial

Many, many thanks for all your reviews, guys. Hope you like this one too…

/\/\/\

Chapter 2: Denial

/\/\/\

Gibbs' heart seemed to stall in his chest. A roaring filled his ears; he shouted into it inside his head, trying to make himself heard.

_No! He's not dead! He can't be!_

"I've extracted a DNA sample for Abby anyway; just to be sure," Ducky continued after a long and deafening silence, sounding older than ever before.

"You're certain?" Asked Gibbs harshly. "One hundred percent?"

"These things are never that clear cut, Jethro. But the chances of someone else driving Tony's car towards Tony's apartment with near identical dental records are so astronomical it would make my mother becoming the next Miss World look positively likely."

Gibbs glanced over to the sheet-wrapped form on the examination table.

"It's not him, Duck," he stated with conviction.

"And what are you basing that on, Jethro?" The Englishman asked sharply. "Your famous gut?" Gibbs merely met his eyes.

"I'd know if he were dead, Ducky. I'd just know."

/\/\/\

"McGee! What do you have?" Barked Gibbs, striding into the bullpen, fresh coffee in hand.

"Um, nothing yet, boss," the young agent said nervously. "Tony's cell isn't transmitting so it's either switched off or broken. His credit cards haven't been used in more than forty eight hours, and that was only a tank of gas for his car. No unusual calls, emails or visitors that I can find and I'm gonna go collect the security footage from every camera in the area with a view of the roads as soon as the stores open." Gibbs only grunted.

"Kate! What did you find on the friend?"

"He's clean, Gibbs. Brett Saddler is a professional physiotherapist, here for a job interview with a local hospital. His finances and credentials all check out; only criminal record is for a couple minor traffic violations. There's nothing hinky about the bartender either. It… it looks like it really was just an accident."

"With DiNozzo, Kate, nothing is ever what it looks like," said Gibbs firmly. "Keep looking."

/\/\/\

"What d'we know, Abbs?" Asked Gibbs, observing the red and black striped socks sticking out from under Tony's charred car; much like the Wicked Witch of the West, if she wore black platform boots instead of ruby slippers.

"Tony's going to be pissed when he sees this?" Said Abby, rolling out on her back. "I've checked the brakes and what's left of the three intact tyres, and they seem to be in perfect working order except for the fire damage. You know Tony; this car is his baby. He keeps it in mint condition."

"Yeah, well, it's in barbeque condition now. What about the tyre that blew?"

"I have my computer running a simulation based on the debris pattern in the crime scene photos to see how it failed as we speak. Has Ducky said anything about the x-rays yet?"

Gibbs looked at her, making sure there was certainty in his eyes. "Inconclusive," he said. "How long until we have the DNA?"

"I'm not Wonder Woman, Gibbs; at least another nine hours. When you say inconclusive…" Abby's voice trailed off, the normally chirpy tones hesitant. "What exactly did Ducky tell you?" Gibbs suddenly found the wall of the lab very interesting.

"He said… it could be him."

"But you don't think it is?" She nodded, satisfied. "Do you have any leads on where Tony's got to yet?" Gibbs' eyes softened at her certainty that their friend was alive.

"Not yet, Abbs, but we will. Knew I should have made him let you insert that tracking device."

"I will, as soon as we find him. Right after I kick his ass for worrying me like this." The young woman began to babble; Gibbs let her, feeling the stream of words flow over him like a balm.

"Why is it that these things always happen to Tony, anyway? He's, like, the unluckiest guy on the planet. Or the luckiest. After all the times he should have died, he's a medical marvel. Did you know he's had forty nine work related head injuries in his career? Next time some psycho bashes him over the head with a lamp, I'm throwing him a Golden Concussion party."

"If it turns out he's passed out in some bimbo's bed and his phone battery's died, he won't need a psycho with a lamp to get another concussion, Abby."

/\/\/\

Gibbs stepped out of the elevator about nine hours later, Kate and McGee following, and headed into Abby's lab. All three of them were exhausted; Gibbs had spent the time yelling at people and pulling every string he had to try and find a lead while Kate and McGee went cross eyed watching security footage from over a hundred store cameras.

There was no music playing; the silence seemed to menace the trio. McGee and Kate shot each other a worried look as they entered to find Abby working feverishly on her computer, her back to them.

"Abby?" Asked Gibbs, the single word all that was needed.

"I'm gonna have to run the test again, Gibbs," she said, distracted. "I think the DNA analyser needs recalibrating."

"You just had that done last week, Abby; there's nothing wrong with it," said McGee, puzzled.

"There is, McGee; there has to be." There was desperation in her voice.

"Abby, what did it say?" Asked Kate, unable to contain the tremble in her own.

"It doesn't matter; it can't be right," the Goth replied. Gibbs moved over and took her shaking hands from the keyboard, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Abby, what did it say?" He asked, as gently as he could.

"It said… it said it was… but it can't be… you told me it wasn't… I've compared it twice, it still comes out the same…" Abby dissolved into heartwrenching sobs. Gibbs simply folded her into his arms and held her close, numbed by shock.

/\/\/\

Thoughts, questions and threats welcome.


	3. Shock

Thanks again for the reviews, everyone.

/\/\/\

Chapter 3: Shock

/\/\/\

Gibbs headed up to see Morrow, leaving McGee, Abby and Kate to comfort one another as best they could. The Director regarded him carefully, worried by Gibbs' drawn, tired features. For the first time since they'd met, the former Marine actually looked a little lost.

"What do you have, Gibbs?" The other man asked, disconcerted. "Any leads on DiNozzo?"

"The car was untampered with. Abby thinks he ran over a tack that caused the tyre to blow. There's no sign of any kind of foul play. Dental and DNA concur that the body is…" Gibbs' voice tailed off, unable to speak the name.

"I'm so sorry, Jethro," said Morrow wholeheartedly. "I know what Tony meant to you."

"Thank you, sir," said Gibbs, tonelessly.

"All of you have a week's compassionate leave; Abby and Ducky too. And in your case, it's compulsory."

"Understood, sir." Gibbs wasn't arguing. That was never a good thing.

"I'll deal with the paperwork and make the necessary calls to Tony's family; you go home and try to get some rest. You look exhausted."

"With your permission, sir, that is my duty. As DiNozzo's supervisor, I would prefer to make the call myself."

"Very well, Gibbs, but you will leave directly afterwards. I will have security inform me when you go; don't think you can get away with staying in the office."

"I wasn't planning to, sir. There's only one call to make; it shouldn't take long." He turned to leave.

"Oh, and Gibbs?" He hesitated.

"Don't sand your boat away to nothing."

/\/\/\

The bullpen was almost silent. The whole building had heard the news by now; Tony had been known by all. Everyone liked Tony; the entire secretarial pool were crying together in the ladies' room while the security guards planned how to break the news to the night shift. Tony had always had a way of making people feel appreciated and valued, even if everyone else looked right through them.

The other members of his team received countless sympathetic glances and murmured condolences as they sat, staring glumly at his desk. Abby sat beside Kate in sisterly support, their arms around each other, both with eyes red-rimmed from crying. McGee didn't look much better.

"I keep expecting him to walk in," he said softly.

"With that dumb grin on his face, saying it was all just some big prank to annoy us," Kate continued with a weak smile. All three of them looked up, hope on their features, as the elevator chimed its arrival. But it was only Ducky.

"Caitlyn, Abigail, Timothy," he said tiredly. He didn't comment on their obvious disappointment; the elderly ME could guess what was going through their minds. "I have done everything I can for Anthony. Where is Jethro?"

"Still with the Director," replied Kate, as steadily as she could.

"I want to see him," said Abby, suddenly.

"Abby, my dear, are you sure? The fire caused considerable damage to the body; it's not a pleasant sight even to those of us who are used to these things."

"I don't care. Like Gibbs says, never believe someone is dead until you've seen the body. And I don't; not yet, not Tony…" She began to cry again; McGee moved to her other side to help Kate comfort her as best he could.

Gibbs marched down from the Director's office, his features haggard. He pulled out his chair and dropped into it with a grunt.

"Morrow's given us all a week off," he said shortly. "None of you are coming back into the building until Tuesday morning."

"Abby wishes to visit Anthony, Jethro," said Ducky. "I think perhaps we should go with her."

"Fine; but you leave immediately afterwards." He pulled out his keyboard and began to log himself into his computer. It was Kate who voiced the question they were all thinking.

"You're not coming?"

"No, Kate; I have a phone call to make."

/\/\/\

Gently, and with the greatest respect, Ducky pulled open the steel drawer to reveal the sheet wrapped body of their friend and teammate.

"Oh, Anthony," he sighed. "Such a waste. You had so much life about you, so much left to give us. To end like this…"

"It's not fair," choked Abby, virtually held up by Kate and McGee's supporting arms. "How could you do this to us, Tony? How could you leave us? I thought you were my friend!"

"He had no choice, Abby." Kate's voice trembled uncontrollably as a tear slipped down her cheek. "Tony would never put us through this if he could avoid it."

"I… I didn't really mind him calling me Probie," managed McGee. "I know he didn't mean anything by it."

There was a long silence, broken only by Abby's gentle sobs.

"Timothy," said Ducky eventually, "would you mind driving Abigail and Caitlyn home? I don't think any of you should be alone tonight."

"But what about you, Ducky?" McGee asked anxiously. "And Gibbs?"

"I will take care of Jethro. You three just try to get some rest."

/\/\/\

Gibbs slammed the phone down with a curse; now he understood why Tony had given him a number for his father only on the condition that he never, ever called it under any circumstances. He'd been on hold for over an hour, shunted back and forth between various PAs and dogsbodies without getting close to actually speaking to DiNozzo Senior.

It was no good; he was getting nowhere. Laboriously, Gibbs worked on his computer for a few minutes and then picked up the phone again.

"Fornell."

"Tobias, I need a favour."

"Sounds ominous. What have you done this time?"

"DiNozzo was killed in an RTA late last night." There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jethro. What can I do?"

"I'm having trouble contacting his family. I want you to come out to New York with me; might need an FBI badge just to get through the door."

"OK. I'll meet you at Dulles in …two hours?"

"Flight leaves in… an hour and fifty four minutes. Step on it."

/\/\/\

I know I don't have Gibbs reacting quite how he did in Kill Ari, but in the circumstances I think it's believable. Let me know if you disagree.


	4. Anger

Thanks again for your reviews, guys. This will probably be the last update before xmas, so I hope you like it…

/\/\/\

Chapter 4: Anger

/\/\/\

Gibbs was right; it was only the weight of Fornell's badge that got them into the vast glass and steel skyscraper that housed Dominic DiNozzo's office. Even so, it took a healthy dose of the patented Gibbs glare and several threats as well to get them to his door.

"You can't go in there," the PA protested hysterically. "Mr DiNozzo's in a meeting!" The pair ignored her and strode inside.

A group of several suited, middle aged men all sat around the large, mahogany desk of Tony's father. Gibbs could see the family resemblance in his jawline and facial structure, but the eyes were totally different. Tony's had been a warm, vibrant blue, sparkling with life; his father's were dark, cold and dead.

"What is the meaning of this?" Asked DiNozzo Senior, every syllable tinkling with ice. Fornell and Gibbs pulled their badges yet again as the FBI agent identified them.

"Special Agent Fornell and Special Agent Gibbs."

"I see. And what can I do for you… gentlemen?" The sarcasm was clear.

In reply, Gibbs pulled a photograph out of his pocket and placed it deliberately on the desk before him. It was the one Ducky had taken on Air Force One almost two years before, of Tony grinning from the President's chair. DiNozzo stared at it for a long moment.

"Well, well," he said, almost to himself. "It seems Anthony hasn't changed a bit. Leave us," he told the assembled businessmen, who scrambled to obey. As the door clicked shut behind them, Dominic spoke again, eyes narrowed.

"I should warn you, I have not seen or spoken to my son in some years. Whatever he has done to warrant your attention does not involve or indeed interest me."

Out of the corner of his eye, Fornell watched Gibbs's hand clench into a fist. Oh, boy, he thought.

/\/\/\

Fornell had called in a favour and borrowed the FBI New York office's MTAC. He looked up at the big screen as Director Morrow's face appeared.

"Thank you for taking this meeting, Director," Fornell began. "I know it was short notice."

"When the FBI needs to talk to me, Agent Fornell, it's usually important; particularly when it's you. Although I think you should have stopped to put some ice on that eye before you called."

Fornell grimaced, touching his impressive shiner gingerly. "Haven't had the time. It's not as bad as it looks."

"What's so urgent, then, Fornell? And why are you calling from New York?"

"The NYPD have Gibbs in custody," the FBI agent replied wearily.

"What? What happened?"

"He couldn't get DiNotzo's father on the phone, so we flew out here to talk to him face to face. Trouble was, Daddy Dearest wasn't exactly breaking down at the news. In fact, he didn't give a damn whether his son was alive or dead."

"Tell me Gibbs didn't shoot him."

"He didn't; mostly because I don't think he had enough functioning brain cells to pull his gun. It took the entire building security team and me to drag him off. They had to taser him in the end; I've never seen anything like it."

"Take it that's how you got that shiner. Gibbs has a mean right hook."

"Tell me about it," said Fornell, rolling his undamaged eye.

"How bad are DiNozzo's injuries?"

"Haven't heard yet; they took him straight to the ER."

"And Gibbs?"

"Plenty of bruises and scrapes, badly cracked knuckles and taser burn; nothing too serious, considering that there were eight of us trying to restrain him."

"No; I meant how _is_ he?"

"Honestly, sir?" Fornell sighed deeply. "He's in pieces. That boy really meant the world to him."

"Yeah, he did." Morrow paused for a moment before moving on to the practical. "All right. Considering the circumstances, DiNozzo could probably be persuaded not to press charges, if only to avoid the media attention. Press haven't caught wind yet, have they?"

"Not that I know of, but it can only be a matter of time. DiNozzo Senior is a big cheese and there were plenty of witnesses."

"Just what I need; I've got one man dead, five on compassionate leave and now one in jail. I'll get hold of the NYPD to tell them this is in my jurisdiction and then send in a team to take over."

"Shame having no interest whatsoever in your only child isn't a criminal offence," said Fornell, with feeling.

"It certainly should be," Morrow replied darkly. "Tony was a good kid and a talented investigator; losing him is a real blow for NCIS."

"And after this, you'll most likely lose Gibbs too," said Fornell.

"I'm not sure we didn't lose him the moment the DNA results came back."

" Jethro did make one request, Director. He asked that the others not be told about this; said they had enough to worry about."

"Don't we all; I'll see what I can do. Just make sure the NYPD don't try to do anything stupid like withholding coffee; I'd hate for Gibbs to end up on more than one assault charge."

"I'll take him some as soon as they're done getting his statement," promised Fornell.

/\/\/\

I did try to write the fight scene but I just couldn't make it work; I think this chapter is better for leaving it to the imagination. If anyone else would like to have a go, feel free.


	5. Caffeine and Sympathy

There are a few more details about the fight in this chapter, for those people who wanted them.

Congratulations, Sparkling Catseye, for picking up on the five stages thing. Take a gold star. That was the original premise for this story, but it's kinda grown since then.

Oh, and bethellie; if you watch the scene in Bury Your Dead where Jeanne is giving Tony a concussion check and she shines her little torch right in his eye in slow-mo (and I have, multiple times), you can see that they are blue with a splodge of gold, not green.

/\/\/\

Chapter 5: Caffeine and Sympathy

/\/\/\

Fornell entered the cell in silence, trying to gauge the condition of his friend as he handed him the extra coffee cup he carried. Gibbs had been cleaned up by a medic, but the butterfly tape closing some of the deeper abrasions only served to emphasise his injuries.

"This feels familiar," said Gibbs, after a long swallow.

"Yeah, except I was actually innocent," replied Fornell, referring to when he was imprisoned after the bone yard incident. "You, on the other hand, are not."

"Always suspected DiNozzo'd be the reason I was up on assault charges some day; just never thought he'd have to die to do it," said Gibbs, reflectively. Critically, he looked up at the FBI agent.

"Did I do that?" He asked, indicating his eye.

"You don't remember?"

"Like I told the cops, I don't remember anything after that bastard said he was glad…" Gibbs' voice choked off.

"You dived over the desk and pinned him to the floor," said Fornell, carefully. "Elbowed me in the face when I tried to pull you away."

"Sorry about that."

"Believe me, right now I'm the least of your worries. Although I must say the building security guys were very impressed when you threw DiNozzo through that glass wall. Shock and awe, they said."

"I threw him out the building? We were on the thirty fifth floor!"

"No; the wall was internal, fortunately for you. I really don't think you want to be sitting here on a murder charge."

"Don't count on it," said Gibbs darkly.

"I talked to Director Morrow. He's going to make sure the investigation is handled by NCIS."

"Good. No matter how good DiNozzo's lawyers are, they're not gonna impress a military court."

"Even if you avoid jail time, you're still gonna lose your job," said Fornell.

"Doesn't matter. I was thinking of quitting anyway."

Fornell regarded his friend carefully, worried by the defeat in his voice. "You doing OK, Jethro?" He asked gruffly.

Gibbs only met his gaze, allowing some of his grief and pain to show momentarily in his eyes.

"I've just lost Tony, Tobias. I'm about as far from OK as it's possible to get."

Briefly, Fornell placed a comforting hand on his shoulder; and then offered Gibbs his coffee cup. "Here," he said. "I think you need this more than I do."

/\/\/\

Gibbs finished his coffee and sighed deeply. He hadn't allowed himself to stop and think about the events of the last thirty odd hours; if he did, it would become uncontrovertibly real. At the moment, he could convince himself it was a bad dream, a trick, a hallucination; because he'd much prefer to lose his mind than lose Tony.

Gibbs had first met Detective DiNozzo of Baltimore Homicide while investigating the murder of an old friend of his, Martin Leavis. The man was a retired Marine, which made his jurisdiction a little tenuous; so he'd been forced to allow a civilian cop to tag along. Tony's captain had a distinct grudge against both Gibbs taking over the investigation and his youngest detective; he seemed to think that the best way to get back at both of them was to force them to work together.

At first, he'd been right. Gibbs had been in full Captain Ahab mode and DiNozzo had just followed him around talking about movies and being generally irritating. The NCIS agent had been less than pleasant to him; in fact he'd far surpassed his second B and was working on a third. DiNozzo had just sat back and taken every dig, insult and barked order with impossible good nature and that neverending smile; Gibbs had been forced to give him credit for that, at least.

And then the young detective had figured out the culprit, proving that he had actually been paying attention to the evidence all along. Gibbs had been ready to pull the trigger on the unarmed perp; but Tony had been so annoying he'd distracted Gibbs from his intent and cuffed the killer before the NCIS agent could decide which of them he'd rather shoot.

It hadn't been until afterwards that Gibbs realised what the young man had done with such apparent ease; he'd broken Gibbs from an obsession, something three wives and half a boat had never managed. He'd smacked the boy on the head and then offered him a job.

And as it turned out, a high insult tolerance wasn't DiNozzo's only talent. He was bright, experienced, intuitive and could more than hold his own against coworkers and criminals alike. His undercover skills were excellent, his interview technique, while unusual, was very effective and he was good fun to have around the bullpen. Within a month, Gibbs knew without doubt that Tony DiNozzo was the best agent he'd ever worked with.

He'd never told him. Not once, in almost four years, had Gibbs ever told Tony he thought he was a good agent. He'd given the younger man the occasional compliment; mostly when he'd been out of earshot, and the odd pat on the back when he was hurting. And strangely, for Tony that seemed to be enough to win his undying loyalty. Although having met the man's previous employer and now his father, Gibbs could begin to understand that it was more than anyone else had ever given him. He quickly deflected that thought; he could really do without a broken hand from punching the wall on top of his other injuries.

/\/\/\

Hope you liked the symmetry with Bone Yard, as well as my description of how Tony was hired…


	6. If

Many more thanks to my reviewers. Although I can't help noticing I seem to get at least ten times as many hits as I do reviews…

There is a very minor crossover in this chapter, but it doesn't matter if you've never seen NYPD Blue…

/\/\/\

Chapter 6: If

/\/\/\

Gibbs looked up as a second visitor arrived, the dregs of Fornell's coffee long cold. It was the detective who'd questioned him earlier, an older man who was clearly sympathetic to his plight.

"Detective Sipowicz," he said warily. "Is the NCIS team here already?"

"Looks like they won't be needed after all. I had a call from the hospital; DiNozzo's not pressing charges. You're free to go, Agent Gibbs."

Wearily, Gibbs rose, his movements stiff and mechanical. He winced, stumbling slightly as the many aches and pains he'd been ignoring made themselves known, and the other man caught at his arm to steady him.

"For what it's worth," he said, "I would have done exactly the same in your position."

"Why?" Asked Gibbs, staring down into the cop's sorrowful brown eyes. "It doesn't change anything; doesn't bring him back. I still have to go home and organise the funeral."

"You're not the only one to have lost a partner; or a child." The detective handed over a card. "I chose the bottle to try and forget; give me a call when you're ready to remember."

"Thanks," replied Gibbs, genuinely grateful.

"You need a ride to the airport?" The cop asked gruffly.

"No; Fornell's still around here somewhere. But I do need a favour."

"Sure; as long as it's legal."

"If you speak to DiNozzo, tell him to stay the hell away from me and my team."

"That, I can do," the detective assured him.

/\/\/\

Almost as soon as Gibbs and Fornell had stepped off the plane at Dulles, both their cell phones rang almost simultaneously. Each had a brief conversation and then hung up.

"I'm sorry, Jethro," said Fornell, apologetically. "That was my boss; he wants me to get my ass back to work and explain exactly how I wound up in New York with you when I should have been here filing paperwork."

"Mine was Morrow," said Gibbs. "He's pissed too. Wants to meet ASAP."

"You gonna be OK?" The FBI agent asked. "You're still pretty banged up."

"I'll be fine, Tobias. And... Thanks, for coming with me."

"Anytime, Jethro. Call me if you need anything else."

"I will."

/\/\/\

Gibbs made his way down to his basement on autopilot, his surroundings barely registering. Morrow had managed to be exasperated, concerned and sympathetic all at once. He'd ordered Gibbs to take a vacation and then stopped dead when the former Marine handed over his badge and gun.

"I'm taking time off, Tom," he said. "You can call it vacation or suspension or whatever the hell you want. And if I decide to come back, you'll be the first to know."

"If?" Asked Morrow, shocked.

"I... I don't know that I can do this any more." Gibbs' voice actually trembled slightly. "I'll stay for the funeral and then... I don't know. Just tell the others I went away for a while. And... Take good care of them?"

"I will, Jethro, as best I can," he promised sincerely.

Gibbs grabbed the bourbon off the shelf and slumped to the ground, leaning back against the hull of his boat. The NCIS agent was numb, inside and out, unable to come to terms with the events of the previous forty eight hours. He removed the cap and took a long swallow of the alcohol, feeling it burn its way down his throat. When the bottle was empty, he flung it away in sudden rage, to smash against the wooden stairs. And then the tears came.

Gibbs hadn't cried since he lost his daughter, Kelly, thirteen years ago. But now he buried his face in his hands while his body shook with the overwhelming force of his grief. The loss of a child was no less painful the second time; and no less because the bond was not of blood. He wept until exhaustion and alcohol finally lulled him to sleep.

/\/\/\

Sorry it was so short and bitty, everyone; I've had a really nasty bug this week and I haven't really felt like writing.


	7. The Morning After

Happy Hogmanay, everyone!

I am not going to confirm or deny if Tony is dead or not, because if I told you he was really alive you'd be disappointed in every chapter until he showed up, and if I said he was definitely dead, I think half of you would give up reading. The story is focussed on Gibbs; it's more a character study than anything at this stage. The one thing I will say… There will be a sequel.

/\/\/\

Chapter 6: The Morning After

/\/\/\

The following morning, Ducky let himself into Gibbs' house, tutting when he saw his friend had not only not locked his door, he'd actually left it ajar. The ME didn't bother to check the bedroom; he knew where Gibbs would be and headed straight for the basement stairs.

Ducky shook his head sadly as he saw the heap of humanity on the floor, noting the broken bottle in the corner.

"Come along, Jethro," he said, kneeling beside him to shake his shoulder. "I really cannot carry you and you need to get upstairs in the fresh air…" Ducky was silenced as the dim light caught the tear tracks on Gibbs' face. He'd never once seen the former Marine cry, even during his divorces.

"Duck?" He asked groggily. "What're you doing here?"

"I promised the others I'd look after you," he told him gently. "And I can see you need it. Come on; let's get some coffee down you…" He helped his friend to sit up… and then saw the damage done the previous day. "Good Lord, Jethro; what happened?"

"Got in a fight," he grunted in reply. "Coffee, Duck?"

"Make it as far as the couch first, my friend. I want to take a look at those injuries and it's too dark down here." Ducky pulled Gibbs' arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet, swaying dangerously. Together, they just about managed to make it to Gibbs' living room. Ducky deposited him onto his couch and went to put on the coffee machine and fetch his medical bag from the car.

"If there was ever a time for the sludge you call coffee, Jethro, it's now," the old ME told him sympathetically, handing him the biggest mug he could find.

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs replied, pouring half the scalding liquid down his throat in one go.

Ducky pulled on a pair of latex gloves and produced his suture kit. "That cut on your brow is a nasty one," he said. "I'm afraid it's going to need a couple of stitches, considering your history with butterfly tape. Hold still for me; it will hurt, but considering the amount of alcohol in your system, I don't want to give you any painkillers."

"Just do it if it needs to be done, Ducky."

Gibbs sat stoically as the needle punctured his skin. "I hope you didn't pick a fight with an innocent bystander," the Doctor said. "I know how skilled you are in the noble art of fisticuffs."

"Not innocent. Bastard deserved everything he got."

"Indeed? What did he do to upset you so?"

"You don't wanna know, Duck; trust me on this."

"Very well, Jethro." Ducky tied off the stitch and cut the thread. "Halfway there." Gibbs took the opportunity to finish his coffee. "I'll clean up those split knuckles in a moment; unless there are any more serious injuries you haven't told me about?"

"Just cuts and bruises," he replied dismissively.

"How much did you have to drink?"

"Don't remember. Half a bottle?"

"Half a bottle?!" Ducky exclaimed. "That gutrot you drink is 125 proof! If I'd found you last night, I'd have called an ambulance to get your stomach pumped. What were you thinking?"

"Thinking I didn't want to think any more, Duck."

"Yes, well; I won't deny I allowed myself a couple of glasses of Scotch last night. But you really mustn't let this become a habit, Jethro. The last thing Anthony would want is to see you like this."

"He won't, Ducky. That's the problem."

"I know how much Tony meant to you, my friend; and I understand your grief. All of us are suffering…"

"I never told him," said Gibbs abruptly. "Not once, in four years."

"Anthony was a perceptive young man, Jethro. I'm sure he knew."

"Still should've told him, Duck. I thought there'd be time. He was only thirty three…"

"Death can come at any time; we, of all people, should know that."

"But a car accident? After he's been shot at and kidnapped and pushed out of planes and nearly blown up?"

"It was a senseless waste of his young life, Jethro; but you can't deny that accidents happen every day. It was just Anthony's misfortune that it was his turn."

"Shouldn'tve happened like that. I should've been there; should've been able to protect him."

"Oh, really, Jethro; even had you been with him, what could you have done to save Tony?"

"Nothing; but I could've been with him. He shouldn'tve had to die alone. Not Tony…"

If he hadn't been staring directly into a bloodshot blue eye, Ducky might have missed the tear that slipped down his cheek.

/\/\/\

Tell me what you thought. I'm always open to suggestions.


	8. Bete Noir

Thank you so much for all your glowing reviews! My fingers have been inspired to type faster. (Essay? What essay? Oh, right, the one due Monday… err, I'll do my best.)

Sorry this is late, guys; my Internet's been down.

WARNING: There is some disturbing imagery in this chapter.

/\/\/\

Chapter 8: Bete Noir

/\/\/\

Ducky had tucked Gibbs up on the couch with a blanket and headed out to take care of a few errands. Just as he arrived back juggling grocery bags, his cell phone rang; and Scotland the Brave sounded through the house; the doctor winced, answering hastily to try and avoid waking his patient.

"Doctor Mallard," he said quietly.

"Ducky, have you seen the news?" The familiar throaty voice asked urgently.

"I'm afraid not, Abby, my dear; why do you ask?"

"Because ZNN's reporting a rumour that Dominic DiNozzo got beaten up by an FBI agent yesterday and it can't be a coincidence and I can't get hold of Gibbs and has anyone even called about Tony yet? And…"

"Abby, Abby, please; take a deep breath for me. Now; I believe that Mr DiNozzo's attacker was none other than our Jethro himself. He has some minor injuries consistent with a fight."

"Gibbs is hurt!!! Why didn't you call me? Is he in hospital? Do I need to come see him?"

"I found Gibbs unconscious in his basement this morning."

"Unconscious?!"

"For goodness' sake, Abby, calm down. Jethro is fine; or he will be, once the hangover wears off. He's sleeping on the couch."

"But why would he fly all the way to New York just to hit Tony's dad?"

"I suspect that was not his intention when he left; they must have had a disagreement when he tried to break the news. In his current emotional state, it wouldn't take much to set him off. Now, don't worry. I am already in his kitchen and I will be looking after him. There is no need for you to come over. Where are you?"

"Kate's place; McGee and I stayed over."

"Good; I'm glad the three of you are together. Pass on to the others that Jethro is fine for me."

"Ducky? Is… he OK?"

"None of us are, my dear," Ducky replied sadly, before he disconnected.

/\/\/\

Gibbs was driving down a darkened street; there was another car in front, which seemed vaguely familiar. And then it hit him. It was Tony's car. He honked his horn, pulling out to cut Tony off. But apparently DiNozzo didn't recognise him because he accelerated, swerving to avoid Gibbs' overtaking manoeuvre. And then his tyre blew.

The Corvette span wildly out of control even as Gibbs slammed on his own brakes, the squeal of his tyres almost drowning the crunch as metal met tree.

Gibbs was out of the car before it had stopped moving, running for the driver's door. I have to save Tony…

The achingly familiar eyes met his through the window as Gibbs yanked desperately at the badly dented door; but it wouldn't move. Blood was flowing freely down the side of Tony's face as he banged frantically on the glass, naked fear on his features. The smell of gasoline was everywhere.

"Gibbs! Help me! Get me out! Please, Boss…"

"The door's stuck. I'm going to break the window." Tony turned his face away as Gibbs pounded his fist into the glass, ignoring the pain as his knuckles split and blood smeared across the surface. On the fifth blow it gave, showering the younger man with glass. He was reaching inside to help Tony out when the gas tank blew.

Gibbs was flung away from the car, landing on his back on the grass verge. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the images he saw before him.

Tony was a human torch; he screamed in agony, arms flailing wildly as the flames licked up his body, devouring the closest thing Gibbs had ever had to a son. The smell of burning flesh engulfed Gibbs even as the shrieks of pain etched themselves onto his memory; and yet he couldn't move. He could only watch, as Tony's beloved face vanished behind the flames.

He hated himself for wishing the terrible sounds to stop; for wishing Tony dead even as the screams died away and the movements quieted. And then he was alone.

/\/\/\

"Tony!" Gibbs fell off the couch in his living room, drenched in sweat, Tony's name on his lips and the smell of human briquette in his nose. He managed to grab the trashcan before he threw up, the force of the retching almost causing him to overbalance.

Suddenly Ducky was running in, grabbing at his friend to steady him; supporting him as he emptied his stomach of what felt like his toenails.

Finally, Gibbs recovered enough to speak.

"'S OK, Duck. I'm done."

"I should say, my boy. A nightmare?"

"I was there; I saw it and I did nothing… The screams, and the smell…"

"It was just a dream, my friend. Just a bete noir."

"Wish it were, Ducky."

"Come on, Jethro," the doctor said sympathetically, taking his arm. "Let's get you cleaned up. And then I am going to make you the most effective hangover cure known to man. It was invented by my great uncle Andrew after a particularly heavy night of drinking one Hogmanay…"

/\/\/\

Hope you didn't think the dream sequence was too much.


	9. Bargaining

Many many thanks for your reviews once again, guys. This is only a short one; but I hope you like it anyway. More Gibbs angst…

/\/\/\

Chapter 9: Bargaining

/\/\/\

The hangover cure had been revolting; but it had worked nonetheless. Gibbs wasn't entirely sure what was in it, but involved raw eggs, vodka and a weird sausage thing Ducky called "black pudding". He had slept off what was left of the alcohol in his system and convinced Ducky to leave and see to his mother. There was something he needed to do.

For once, Gibbs obeyed every speed limit and rule of the road. He stopped for every amber light, let little old ladies cross the street in safety and stopped for coffee twice on his way to his destination.

Even after he'd parked up, Gibbs finished his coffee in the car; putting off the inevitable.

Suck it up, Marine, he told himself, getting out and heading inside.

It was close to midnight by now; with only a nod to the security guard, Gibbs passed through and scanned himself into the elevator. The morgue was as dark and silent as he'd expected; he flipped on one light and then made his way over to the drawers. He rested the palm of his hand against 107, closing his eyes for a long moment as he tried to prepare himself.

Suck it up, Marine, he told himself eventually; and then opened the drawer.

Ducky had covered the blackened and contorted body of his agent and friend with a sheet. Gibbs pulled it back gently, fixing his eyes on the sunken cheeks and hollow eye sockets.

"Oh, Tony," he said softly. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this." Gibbs could almost hear Tony's reply in his head.

"_Thought apologies were a sign of weakness," he said cautiously. _

"_Yeah, well, even I have my moments," he thought back._

"_Ah, wasn't your fault, boss. Just me being stupid again. Don't worry about it." _

"_You're dead, DiNozzo! Don't you dare tell me it doesn't matter!"_

"_Well, it doesn't, does it? You can get in a new agent no problem." _

"_I don't want a new agent! I want you back!"_

"_Hate to break it to ya, Gibbs, but I'm dead. I'm not coming back." _

"_Well you shouldn't be!" _

"_Not up to you to decide. Even the mighty Leroy Jethro Gibbs can't order a resurrection." _

"_No, I can't; but I'm still going to miss you." _

"_Yeah, for all of two weeks. Don't worry. Boss; I know you never liked me much." _

"_But I did, Tony; I just never got the chance to tell you…"_

"_What, in three years and eight months? Not once?" _

"_Once; but you were out cold at the time. I'm sorry, Tony; I know I never treated you right." _

"_You did more for me than anyone else ever did, boss. Pathetic, but true. And that's two apologies in as many minutes; I should be recording this."_

"_My old boss Mike told me something, right before he retired. He said "When you're the best at what you do, you have to keep a lookout for the guy who's going to be better. One day, you'll run into some smartass kid who thinks he knows everything and you'll see that he's got potential. And then when you've spent a few years smacking him on the head and licking him into shape you'll be able to walk away, and know you left a better agent than you ever were to take your place." That's what I was to him; and what you were to me. The best." _

"_Wow, boss; I don't know what to say." _

"_I always meant to tell you that, one day, when I handed over the team to you. I never expected this to happen; I thought I could protect you. I would've taken a bullet for you every damn day if it meant I'd kept you safe! No one should have to bury their hope for the future… Their child…" _

"_Why did it have to happen like this? Why'd I have to lose you? You were so damn special! It shouldn'tve been like this! Not like this… not you, Tony; anything else, but not you…"_

Gibbs repeated the last phrase aloud to the silent morgue.

"Not you, Tony…"

Suddenly his legs would no longer support him. Gibbs slid to the ground, leaning on the cold metal wall, eyes dry only because he had no tears left to shed.

"I'm so sorry, my son," he whispered.

/\/\/\

Did the imagined conversation work for you? Let me now what you thought.


	10. Precious Things

Once again, massive thanks to every one of my reviewers; especially Amazon Penny and Richefic.

/\/\/\

Chapter 10: Precious Things

/\/\/\

Gibbs unlocked the plain wooden door with his key and stared at the inside of Tony's apartment.

As he'd known they would, the familiar surroundings made his chest constrict. Tony's home was modern, tasteful and completely impersonal. Gibbs had only been there two or three times, not counting Kate and McGee's search. The neutral pale yellow walls were broken up only by the occasional framed classic film poster and a full wall bookshelf packed with DVDs, most of which he'd never heard of.

It was the unfinished touches that brought a lump to his throat; a half finished crossword puzzle, a note on the fridge reminding him to pick up his dry cleaning. Tony'd never need any of his expensive designer clothes ever again.

The former Marine flopped down onto the plush leather couch and tried to ignore the silence; the emptiness. DiNozzo had used this place as a storage facility; he'd lived in the office, thriving on takeout and naps at his desk after thirty hour days.

The apartment still smelled of Tony, though. The clean, masculine scent of his aftershave, fainter hints of popcorn and coffee; but mostly just Tony, warm and comforting and so very painfully familiar.

They'd never really hung out outside of work. Tony was always chasing after some girl and he preferred to spend his free time with his boat than on the town. But they'd been friends, of a sort. At least, if Tony needed anything he knew he could come to Gibbs for help; and there had been precious few people in his life he could say that about.

It was just so… unfair. Gibbs knew how pathetic that sounded, but it was how he felt.

Tony had worked in law enforcement for twelve years; and after all the cases he'd solved, all the injuries he'd had, all the things he'd achieved with a smile and a movie reference, he was still just as vulnerable to something as simple as a car accident. It hit Gibbs then that a car crash had killed Shannon and Kelly too, although not an accidental one.

He thought unhappily of the practicalities. He was the only one around to deal with funeral arrangements, although he had no idea what Tony would have wanted. He'd once claimed to want to be cryogenically frozen; but he doubted that was serious. Tony had been raised Catholic, right? But that didn't seem right either, a full traditional funeral mass wasn't Tony's style at all.

Did he even have a will? Of course he did; it was a requirement for field agents to file a will with the legal department. Maybe that would include something on Tony's wishes. He wondered who would show up. Tony had a lot of friends, but most could hardly be called close; he'd have to put calls in to Peoria, Philadelphia and Baltimore in case any of his former partners were still in touch…

And then he realised what he was staring at. In the corner stood a vintage record player, which looked distinctly out of place in the modern apartment.

"_When I was a kid, I used to hide things in my record player."_

Gibbs got to his feet and opened the compartment. Inside were a few items he assumed had been childhood treasures; a toy Ferrari, a battered baseball and a framed photograph. It was a professional job; a stiff, formal family portrait, husband standing proudly behind his seated wife and their child. The boy was unquestionably Tony; he looked to be about ten years old. The woman could only be his mother; she had been a beautiful woman. Tony had inherited her brilliant eyes and slightly cleft nose, but Dominic DiNozzo's features could be picked out in his face too. They looked happy; the embodiment of the American Dream.

At the bottom of the box was another photograph and an envelope. The picture was of the team; Tony must have snapped it himself at a crime scene. Gibbs was smiling in the centre, Kate with her sketch pad joining in the joke. Ducky looked amused and McGee puzzled and out of breath, schlepping a couple of cases of equipment. And Tony considered this important enough to hide with the most precious things he owned. Gibbs turned to the letter, holding it further away so he could read who it was addressed to.

_L.J. Gibbs, NCIS_

Gibbs simply stared at it, eyes blurring, knowing that Tony would only have hidden one type of letter here. The kind he'd write as a just in case, a last message for those he left behind. And he hadn't written it to his family, or a girlfriend; he'd written it to his damn boss, who hadn't even been able to protect him.

Maybe Ducky was right, Gibbs thought wryly. Maybe he did know I cared, somehow. Or maybe he just knew that no one else would even notice he was gone.

To open this letter would be to acknowledge that Tony wasn't coming home….

Gibbs was so lost in his thoughts he barely heard the rattle until someone opened the front door. The minute it registered, he spun around, shoving the precious letter into his pocket, hand going instinctively to his hip… and was confronted by an elderly lady in a pink floral apron holding a large Tupperware box. She looked like someone's granny.

"Who are you?" She demanded, raising the box like a weapon. "Does Anthony know you're in his home? I warn you, I can crack a skull with my lasagne!"

"I believe you, Ma'am," said Gibbs, intimidated despite himself. "Special Agent Gibbs; I worked with Tony." The old lady relaxed slightly, still pinning Gibbs with a glare the Marine would have been proud of.

"Oh; you're Gibbs, are you? Is Anthony home, then? I haven't seen him in a few days; you work the poor boy far too hard. He hasn't landed himself back in hospital, has he?"

"You haven't heard, Ma'am?"

"Don't you call me ma'am, young man; my name is Ms Dorset, I live across the hall. And what haven't I heard?"

"Tony… was killed in a car accident Monday night."

The woman's mouth dropped open in shock, the box of lasagne falling from her hands. "No…" She breathed. "Anthony…"

Gibbs stepped forwards and took her arm, guiding her to a chair. He fetched a glass of water from the kitchen and knelt beside her, pressing it into her trembling hand.

"Here," he said gently, encouraging her to drink.

She sipped at the water, recovering her ability to speak. "Did… did he suffer?"

…_Tony's screams as he writhed in agony… the smell of his charring flesh…_

"No; no, they don't think he felt any pain," said Gibbs softly.

"But he was so young… such a sweet boy… he was always telling me to look after myself better…"

"Yeah; me too," said Gibbs softly, pressing a hand against his side so he could feel the letter in his pocket.

/\/\/\

Like it? Hate it? Crave lasagne?


	11. Remembering

I should be asking for a commission from lasagne manufacturers everywhere.

Once again, huge thanks to all of my reviewers; hope you like this one too. It's a bit longer than usual…

/\/\/\

Chapter 11: Remembering

/\/\/\

Gibbs hurried down the stairs to his sawdusty sanctuary, opening the fresh bottle of bourbon he'd bought on his way home. He tugged at his black tie, pulling it off to hang on a nail in the wall before slumping onto the stool with a deep sigh.

Other than the team, only a dozen people had shown up to Tony's memorial. The Director, Paula Cassidy, Ms Dorset the neighbour, Fornell, five old police buddies and four frat brothers. Of his family there was no sign; but then Gibbs honestly didn't know what he'dve done if they'd shown up.

It wasn't that no one liked Tony; quite the opposite. But very few felt that they were close enough to him to attend. Fornell had only shown for Gibbs' sake; he knew that. The Director was there because he was Tony's CO. The cops and the frat brothers were genuinely grieved, but none had been in close contact with Tony in years. NCIS had consumed all his time and energy; he hadn't taken more than a long weekend since he started there. Ms Dorset and Paula both wept quietly, sharing tissues. But it was clear who the closest people to Tony had been.

Abby was crying inky tears into a black lace handkerchief throughout the short, strictly non-religious service, as Tony's will had specified. McGee kept his arm around her, swallowing convulsively throughout. Ducky was sitting on her other side, also keeping a comforting arm around her. His face spoke of age, and weariness, and the agony of having done this too many times. Kate sat quietly, tears trickling down her pale cheeks as she remembered the man who'd tormented and protected her by turns.

Gibbs himself knew he looked uncaring. He had been forced to lock down all emotion just to get through the day; his face was a careful blank. It fell to Ducky to speak on Tony's life.

"Anthony was a cheerful and vibrant young man," he began. "He had a great energy to him, in everything he did; and it is a tragedy that his life was cut so short. I remember when we first met in Baltimore…"

It was a well-known fact that Gibbs didn't speak at funerals. He knew he was the closest thing there to family Tony had, but he still couldn't do it.

To talk about Tony would crack the mask he'd donned for the occasion; expose his emotions to a whole room full of people; most of which he didn't know. Talking to a friend like Ducky was one thing; a roomful of strangers was another. Gibbs' grief was still too raw to speak about Tony with anything but terrible pain; it would be a long time before he could.

Gibbs felt a sick ache in his chest that was the loss of his best agent. How could he go back and look at that empty desk every day? Remember the man who used to fill it, with his dazzling smile and little boy charm he'd had to pretend to be immune to? How could he cope with the silence where Tony and Kate's bickering had been?

And now all that remained of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was a small wooden box of soft grey ash. Tony's will had requested that he be scattered into the Atlantic he'd lived by all his life. Tony had loved the ocean; and not just for the bikini clad girls. It was fitting; like him, the water was always in motion; and yet still reassuringly constant.

Gibbs still couldn't shake the sense of unreality he felt; he wouldn'tve been surprised if Tony had tripped lightly down the stairs with that big grin on his face bearing pizza and a six-pack.

He'd begun to hate his boat. He'd been here working on it while Tony burned; when he should have been by his side. The damn thing had never been more important than Tony.

Gibbs looked up in mounting hope at the creak of floorboards; but the footsteps were wrong. Not Tony's easy lope, but Fornell's rapid march.

"What d'you want, Tobias?" He said, as the FBI agent opened the basement door.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Your walk."

"You sound disappointed, Jethro; who were you expecting?"

Gibbs simply met his eyes for a long moment. "No one," he replied bleakly.

Fornell put the paper bag he carried down on the workbench. "Thought you might be hungry," he said.

"I'm not."

"Still, you should eat. Starving yourself's not going to help anyone; especially the Jack."

"What are you, my mother?"

"Not the last time I checked. Look, Gibbs, I've been there. I know what it's like to lose an agent."

"He wasn't just an agent, Tobias."

"I know that too; but you have to find a way past this. DiNozzo's dead, Gibbs; and he's not coming back."

"My head knows that; rest of me's not so sure."

"There any reason to suspect there was anything going on?"

"Nope. Just my gut telling me something's hinky."

"I have the greatest respect for your gut, Jethro; but you gotta admit, your judgement is hardly gonna be impartial on this one. And I know if I were you, I'd want someone to blame too."

Gibbs only grunted, looking down at the floor; and then changed the subject.

"How's the eye?" He asked, accepting the carton Fornell passed him. It was now a sickly yellow colour.

"Almost healed. 'S not all bad; helped out a lot when I had to go explain where I'd been to my boss."

"I get you in trouble?"

"Not after I explained the situation. My director's got four kids and six grandkids; he said he didn't blame you and he'd put a team onto DiNozzo Senior and see if he could find any irregularities in the business to pin on him. He gave the IRS a call too."

"Thank him for me."

"Sure thing." Gibbs poked aimlessly at his noodles with the chopsticks as Fornell began to eat.

"I didn't buy you that so you could give it acupuncture," he commented, watching him. "C'mon; eat."

"Did tell you I wasn't hungry."

"It was a tough day today; but I promise, every day from now on will get easier."

"Liar," said Gibbs, without heat. "I've lost men before, Tobias; I know how it works."

"Then you know you're gonna have to replace him eventually."

"No one can replace Tony. Do his job, sure; but not replace him." Fornell was worried by the deep sadness in his voice.

"You know if there's anything else you need, you only have to ask, right?"

"Matter of fact, there is something."

"Name it."

"Stop fussing around me like a God damn mother hen, would ya?"

"I just thought you might want some company."

"And I'm grateful; but I need some time alone."

"You sure that's a good idea? I know what a mess you are right now, Jethro; and the rest of your team are gonna need you around."

"I can't be there for them until I've got my head on straight. And to do that, I need to go away."

"You have somewhere in mind?"

"Yep."

"There any chance you're going to tell me where?"

"Nope."

"You never did get the whole communication thing, did you?"

"Three ex wives, Tobias," Gibbs reminded him.

/\/\/\

Thoughts, anyone?


	12. Nothing Left To Say But Goodbye

Many thanks to the mighty Audioslave for the title; and of course, to my faithful reviewers.

/\/\/\

Chapter 11: Nothing Left To Say But Goodbye

/\/\/\

Gibbs stood alone on the wide, golden sands, watching the sun rise over the ocean. The deep blue of the water was gilded with golden highlights as the dawn kissed the wave tops. The breeze tugged at his clothes as an unusually large wave splashed over his sneakers. The chunk of driftwood that he had used as a windbreak for his picnics with Shannon and Kelly had long since been broken up and swept away, but he could have found his way back to this spot blindfolded.

In his hands were the box containing Tony's ashes and his letter.

He hadn't opened it yet. Every time he looked at the plain white envelope something deep inside stopped him. Maybe he just wasn't ready to face another breakdown yet. Or maybe, a traitorous voice whispered, he kept it sealed in the hope that he could eventually give it back.

The past week had been hell. Gibbs had just done his best to keep busy; it was the only way he knew to distract himself from his pain. The funeral itself hadn't taken a lot of work. Tony had requested no fuss and he'd gone by his wishes. Gibbs hadn't told anyone that the expenses had come from his own account, not Tony's. There were better uses for that.

It turned out Tony had left all his money to the Harbour Lights Basketball program. When Gibbs had gone over to hand them the cheque, he found out that Tony had been helping out for almost two years. Apparently he had some coaching qualifications from college that had proved invaluable; and if there was one group of people Tony knew who to relate to, it was troubled teens. The volunteers had told him all the kids would miss 'Ritchie Rich,' as they had nicknamed him.

They weren't the only ones. Abby had been calling almost hourly to check on him and Ducky and Fornell seemed to have set up a visiting schedule to make sure he wasn't having a noticeable nervous breakdown. He appreciated what they were doing; but the continual coddling wasn't what he needed.

It was appropriate that he had returned here, for the first time since joining NCIS. Gibbs had sat unmoving in this very spot, gun in his hands, trying to decide if he could ever go on with his life; and now here he was again, feeling much the same.

Sometimes, Gibbs wondered why it was that Tony alone of all the agents he'd ever worked with brought out his paternal instincts so strongly. After all, about fifty percent of the time he actually worked at being a pain in the ass. But even when he was joking around teasing Kate or McGee there was always that hunger, in the back of his eyes. It told Gibbs that all Tony really wanted was to be liked, to be noticed by the people around him. It was in his every thought, every action.

Oddly, his co workers seemed oblivious, taking him at face value; Gibbs was sure only himself, Abby and probably Ducky knew that there was a lot more to him than the frat boy persona. Tony acted like a jock because it made him feel safe, accepted. Belong at something, for the first time in his life. His father was clearly a cold hearted workaholic asshole who'd never had much interest in him; although he did wonder if it had always been that way. The family photograph appeared in his mind's eye; it couldn'tve been taken long before the death of Tony's mother. Gibbs wondered idly if she, at least, had been a worthy parent; perhaps it was even her loss that had changed Dominic into the monster he was today.

Then again, he doubted it. Tony's inability to relate to small children and generally sceptical view of women, especially married women, hinted that she had been equally incapable of caring for their son. It made him want to beat them into the ground in rage that they had borne a child and then not been able to love and cherish him as he deserved. As all children deserve.

For a long time, teaching Tony had been the thing that kept Gibbs going. He'd watched the bright, undisciplined young detective mature into a top notch investigator under his careful guidance; seen the changes his leadership had brought in him. And all along, Gibbs had tried to be the father figure Tony needed. He'd worried about him, done his best to keep him safe, torn a strip off him when he'd put himself in unnecessary danger, smacked him on the had when he got distracted.

All for nothing. Now, he'd never have the satisfaction of watching him receive his first team lead, his first Agent of the Year award, his first big case won from the FBI.

All he had to do was open the box and let Tony's ashes blow away into the water. But every time he tried, his fingers tightened on the box until his knuckles went white. He couldn't bring himself to let go.

It had been the same with Tony's stuff. Most of his week had been taken up by sorting through it. The apartment was let furnished, but he'd carefully packed up all the things that were Tony's, from designer clothes and DVDs to his toothbrush and razor. All of it was in storage in his spare room, where Tony had stayed over a few times. He'd even paid to have Ms Dorset's marinara steam cleaned out of the carpet.

Somehow Gibbs couldn't bear to throw away the last evidence of Tony's existence. All he had left were memories, and a handful of ash. No warm, laughing Tony; no brilliant eyes and dumb jokes. No one to call him on the carpet for putting his life in danger or dare to stand up to him when he was being unreasonably obsessive.

No Tony.

/\/\/\

And a return to angst. The next chap will probably not be up until at least the weekend; I have sooo much work to do this week.


	13. Left Behind

Once again, many many thanks for your reviews, guys; although not as many as normal for 12.

Sorry this is so late; it turned out I had another assignment I didn't know about. It's all ongoing, so the updates might be a bit slower from now on.

Still, I hope you like the new chap…

/\/\/\

Chapter 13: Left Behind

/\/\/\

McGee entered the bullpen for the first time since Tony's funeral with trepidation. He'd spent his week off comforting Abby as much as he could, in between trying to deal with his own grief. His typewriter had been seeing a lot of use while he tried to sort through his emotions.

The young agent had never suffered a loss like this before; and he certainly hadn't been prepared to deal with it. It just seemed so unbelievable; Tony had been so much larger than life, and now he was gone in the blink of an eye.

Despite his teasing ways, McGee had looked up to DiNozzo. The older man's vast experience, uncanny instincts and willingness to share his knowledge had helped him become better at his job. And McGee wasn't sure he'dve got as far as he had with Gibbs without Tony's help, insults and competition. He just wished he'd had a chance to thank him…

"Morning, McGee," said Kate, from her desk, sounding like she had a heavy head cold.

"Morning, Kate. How are you doing?"

"Ok, I guess," she replied. "You?"

"Bout the same. Have you seen Gibbs? I expected him to be here..."

"No; he must be with Abby, or Ducky, or the Director, maybe."

The pair powered up their computers and began sifting through the past week's junk email in silence. Both studiously avoided looking in the direction of Tony's untouched desk. The American Pie coffee mug seemed strangely alone on its surface with a few haphazardly stacked files.

"Special Agent Todd; Special Agent McGee," said Director Morrow, stopping by Gibbs' desk.

"Director Morrow," said Kate in surprise; he hardly ever ventured down to the bullpen. "We haven't seen Gibbs yet. Were you looking for him?"

"No; I just stopped by to tell you he won't be in today."

"Gibbs is taking more time off?" McGee blurted out. "Sir," he added hastily.

"Yes, Agent McGee, he is. And without complaint, for once. Since he hasn't taken a non-compulsory day in over five years I've granted him indefinite leave. His absence leaves your team two men short; so the two of you will be working on cold cases and assisting other teams until Gibbs' return. I know those aren't your favourite activities, but under the circumstances…"

"We understand, Director," said Kate. "Thank you for informing us."

They waited until he had stepped into the elevator, probably heading for Ducky's domain, before McGee said it.

"Where d'you think Gibbs is?"

Kate sighed. "Probably in his basement, getting drunk and working on his boat," she replied. "This has really hit him hard."

"Hit us all hard, Kate."

"But it's different for Gibbs. He's a protector by nature; he feels like he failed Tony."

"How could he have protected him from a car accident?"

"He couldn't; but he feels like he should have. They worked together a long time."

"Almost four years. Hey, who was the third agent, before you?"

"Uh, Vivian Blackadder; but Gibbs fired her months before I met him. He and Tony worked as partners before she joined too."

McGee's eyes widened incredulously. "Tony worked with Gibbs alone?"

"Scary thought, isn't it. I can't imagine being Gibbs' partner; it must've been hell."

"Tony was always his favourite, though," McGee replied thoughtfully.

"What makes you say that? Gibbs was harder on him than any of us; mostly because he deserved it."

"Exactly. Gibbs was hard on Tony because he knew he could do better."

"DiNozzo was a good cop; and a good agent, if a little dumb."

"You really think Gibbs would've put up with a dumb cop for four years, Kate?"

"Tony had other talents. The two of us do the spadework and he makes obscure connections with movies. Although… sometimes, there was something about his eyes. Like he was watching himself to make sure he was acting normally."

"You noticed that too? It was mostly when there were kids involved in a case. I thought it was just because he didn't know how to act around them."

"Well, he was an only child. No siblings to practice on; and he didn't talk much about his family."

"There were no relatives at the service. I thought it was weird; but I didn't want to upset Abby any more by mentioning it."

"I know his mother's dead; but I think his father's still alive and he's got some cousins he mentions sometimes. It's strange; I thought I knew Tony, but I can't tell you much about him. I… should've tried harder; spent more time with him…" Kate's voice choked off.

"If you want, I could hack into his personnel file," suggested McGee, timidly.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Well, um, technically, yes, very. But if it'd make you feel better…"

To his surprise, Kate got up from her desk and moved over to hug him. "Thanks, Tim," she said, sincerely. She tried to cover her eyes as she hurried away towards the ladies room to hide her tears.

McGee was left alone, staring at Tony's desk. If DiNozzo were here, he'd be smirking, leaning back on his chair. Tim could almost hear his voice.

"Nice work, Probie. When women are vulnerable, get right in there. I always knew she had a thing for me."

"Oh my God," said McGee to himself. "I'm turning into Tony."

/\/\/\

"Abby; Abby, my dear, Jethro is more than capable of taking care of himself," Ducky tried to comfort her desperately.

"No, Ducky, he is not!" She stated firmly. "Gibbs never, ever takes time off! And you saw him at the service; he was so… blank. It's like all the feeling got knocked out of him. If we don't find him I'm so scared that he might do something stupid and I can't lose him too, Ducky, I just can't. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to him…" tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Oh, Abigail…" Ducky wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder.

"He should be here, Ducky," she managed. "We need him; I need him. And he needs us. I've never seen him like this…"

"Please, Abby; just stop panicking for a moment?"

"I am not panicking! Abigail Pauline Scutio does not panic! I just get real worried and overdose on caffeine!"

"Abby!" Ducky gripped her by the shoulders and spoke calmly but firmly to her. "Jethro is very upset; as are we all. He simply expresses his emotions differently to the rest of us. That is why he has gone away; he wants to be able to be strong for you when he returns. This is how he deals with things; you can't deny him the right to grieve in his own way, now, can you?"

"I guess not," she conceded. "But I need him here _now_." She sounded so childlike and vulnerable that Ducky had to pull her back into his arms.

/\/\/\

I pulled back from Gibbs a bit here; hope you still liked it.


	14. Ghosts

WARNING: Mention of suicide.

I confess, even _I_ teared up a bit writing this. If you got a lump in your throat in any of the previous chapters, go get some Kleenex before you start.

This is not the chapter I intended to post; it was inspired by a really helpful review from Denouement Intrusion. Hope you like it, DI.

/\/\/\

Chapter 14: Ghosts

Gibbs had always needed something to do with his hands while he was thinking; that was why he'd spent so much time building boats all these years. But instead of thinking on how to catch a murderer or avoid his latest wife's drunken phone calls; now, he was thinking about his life.

He was breaking his own rules by vanishing; and he knew that Abby would be inconsolable, but he needed the solitude. Needed to do something for himself for once, instead of other people.

The former Marine had fled to the place he felt safest, where nothing could reach him. It was a small, dilapidated wooden cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains, so far from civilization that it wasn't even marked on the map. He'd left his car by the closest thing that could be called a road and then hiked up through the forest; the familiar trail so overgrown it might have been an animal track. The place had belonged to his father and grandfather before him; his great grandfather had built it with his own hands. To Gibbs, it was his link to his now non-existent family; one he needed more than ever. He hadn't been there in years; but in his youth he'd learned to hunt and fish here with his father; how to make fire, eat smores and survive in the peace and quiet of nature. Years later, he'd taken Kelly for a weekend, only a few months before she died. He smiled a little as he remembered her shining eyes the first time she managed to catch a fish in the river.

Gibbs had always intended to bring DiNozzo here, one day, when they both had some leave. Tony had been better at outdoors type things than people might have imagined from his sharp dress sense and reliance on takeout; because his father had sent him to camp every summer. Gibbs was damn sure he'd never even considered teaching his son to fish himself. Tony had missed out on so much in his short life; Gibbs should have made time to bring him here, to prove how much he cared about him. He'd intended to leave the cabin to Tony; in fact, there was a note in his will specifically mentioning it. He'd never considered that he might outlive the younger man.

Gibbs paused in his task of splitting wood for the fire to wipe a combination of sweat and tears from his face before carrying an armful of fuel into the cabin. He deposited it on the pile beside the stone fireplace in the centre of the single room.

Even here, Tony was continually in his thoughts. Gibbs found himself imagining his expression on his first catch; or his inevitable comment when he'd first arrived and found a family of raccoons had taken up residence under the rough wooden table that was the only furniture in the place.

Gibbs was alone, now; more than he'd ever been before, surrounded by the ghosts of his family. He looked around, and saw the spot where his father had sat and told him stories of his own childhood escapades. The place where Kelly had proudly set up her sleeping bag, close to the fire, to listen to him repeat them. And the place Tony should have been, that rare unguarded look in his eyes, as he realised what Gibbs was trying to say by bringing him here.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs Senior had never been the kind of man to talk easily about his feelings; or at all, in fact. His son supposed that was where his own taciturn nature had come from. Trips to this cabin had been his way of spending time with his only child, expressing how much he cared for him without actually having to say it out loud. Gibbs had always considered them the most precious childhood memories he had. Pain and regret stabbed through him like steel as he thought of how much it would have meant to Tony to do the same with him, before… before it was too late.

Gibbs slumped to the ground, sitting cross-legged on the bare wooden floor as he allowed himself to cry, in the certainty that there was no one around to hear him.

He was alone, again. He was always alone; he lost everything he loved. His father wasted away from cancer while he was away on deployment in Panama. Shannon and Kelly, murdered for seeing something they shouldn'tve when he was in Kuwait. Three wives who had abandoned him because he was too broken inside from his loss to give them the love they deserved. And now Tony, the son he'd never had, dead and gone because of a tack in the road.

How could he go on without him? All those empty years and suddenly he'd had a reason to live beyond revenge; beyond trying to make up for his mistakes by protecting the families Marines left behind while they were at war.

Before he'd met Tony, Gibbs had forgotten what it was to be understood; to look into another face and see himself reflected back at him. Tony had been so like him; both obsessed with their work, both almost incapable of forming normal relationships with other people. Both unable to express what they felt; Tony covered it with jokes and teasing, Gibbs with feigned anger and stony silence. And yet Tony had been one of the very few people he knew who wasn't afraid of him. Respectful, yes; intimidated, occasionally; but never afraid. Maybe Ducky was right, and he'd sensed that Gibbs cared deeply about his welfare; or maybe it was just because he trusted Gibbs absolutely not to harm him beyond the frequent head slaps and the odd bruise in the gym.

After Shannon and Kelly had died, at least there had been something he could do; someone he could blame; some reason for their deaths, twisted as it was. But Tony… Where was the reason? Why did fate (because he hadn't believed in God since he'd lost his family) choose to take his reason for living away again?

His hand strayed to the holster at his hip. He'd brought his backup weapon with him without really thinking about it. Carrying a gun was second nature to him by now, and there was always the chance that there might be bears or wolves in the area.

Gibbs was tired of grieving; of watching the people he loved die. Sometimes his exhaustion was so complete that he had to drown it in alcohol; numb himself to the world that had hurt him so deeply. And oh, how much he wanted it to be over. He wanted so much to be whole again, to not feel this gaping ache in his chest; to not be alone any more. He removed the weapon from its holster and contemplated it through tear-blurred eyes.

No one would know what had happened to him. He'd told no one where he was going and if he left the door open it was likely that scavengers would take the body before anyone found it.

Gibbs considered what would happen if he simply never returned to the city. Ducky would most likely guess the truth; he would be deeply saddened, but the older man knew how he felt about DiNozzo. Kate… well, she would wait, and eventually she would grieve, and then she would move on. McGee would try hard to find a way of tracking him down and then when he failed, the kid would probably attach himself to another leader; maybe even one who could look out for his people.

Abby would be devastated. More than devastated. Tony had been one of her closest friends and for him, her surrogate father, to leave too so soon after his death might well break her irreparably. There was also the fact that she was as stubborn and determined as he was and she would never give up looking.

Gibbs knew all too well the agony of having his world crumble around him; being driven to drink and loneliness and eventually despair. And then he thought of his cheery, pigtailed Gothic forensic genius.

"No," he said aloud; it came out as barely a whisper. Gibbs cleared his throat and repeated it more firmly.

"No. I won't do that to her. I have to go back."

Decisively, he holstered his weapon and rose from the floor, dusting off his hands. If he were going to return, the cabin would need some fixing up before the winter.

/\/\/\

Tell me if you think it was too much.


	15. Reunion

Once again, many, many thanks for your reviews, everyone.

Don't get too excited about the title.

/\/\/\

Chapter 15: Reunion

The past two weeks had been unbearably long for Kate. Abby was always on the verge of tears; her lab had become a melancholy world of jazz and dirges, with pictures of Gibbs and Tony on every screen. Ducky was running himself ragged trying to help everyone; he looked old, suddenly, while he continually brought Caff Pow for Abby and coffee and take out (but never pizza) for McGee and herself. Tim had been nearly silent, trying very hard not to upset anyone; although he seemed less skittish than he had been with Gibbs and Tony breathing down his neck.

As for Kate herself… She'd done her best to hold the others together; but the team was falling apart around her with the loss of its two strongest personalities. She'd pushed down her own emotions as far as possible while she was at work; although Abby bursting into tears several times a day made it tough. All she wanted was for Gibbs to come back and lift the responsibility of leadership from her shoulders; Kate didn't want to be senior, she wanted to be part of a team again. And she could never have believed how much she missed Tony. She still caught herself staring at his desk; or waiting for the silence to be broken by one of his inane comments. She hated hearing nothing but typing and the occasional rustle of paper.

In her darkest moments, alone in her apartment with a glass of wine, she wondered what their reaction would have been if it had been her funeral they were attending. Would Gibbs have taken off like this for her? She doubted it. Abby would have been equally upset, but with Gibbs around to comfort her she was sure the Goth girl would have coped better. McGee would have been just as silent; perhaps only Ducky, with his innate sense of chivalry, would have grieved more for her than Tony.

As for DiNozzo… She'd never seen him truly upset. Well, except for the White case; but Gibbs had kept her well away from her partner then. He'd driven Tony to the ER himself and she knew for a fact he'd stayed over at Gibbs' house that night. She herself had never even been there.

The only death she'd seen Tony deal with was Chris Pacci's and he'd hardly seemed any different from normal, at least once the shock had worn off. Still, she couldn't help but think he'dve done a better job at keeping the team together than she had; Tony could be sensitive when he wanted to be.

She rounded the partition and dropped her bag on her desk with a sigh. And did a double take.

Gibbs was sitting at his desk, glasses perched on his nose, reading over a stack of paperwork.

"Gibbs! You're back!" She said, in shock and relief.

"And you are late, Agent Todd," he said flatly, without looking up. She checked her watch; it was 0705.

"It won't happen again, Gibbs," she said, rolling her eyes. Typical Gibbs.

"It better not. I'm going to see the Director. Tell McGee he's in deep trouble; when he gets here." He rose to head upstairs.

"Uh, Gibbs? Are you… doing OK?" She asked, tentatively.

For the first time, the older agent met her eyes. "I look sick to you?"

Kate was shocked at what she saw.

Gibbs seemed to have aged ten years since Tony's death. The lines on his face were deeper, his eyes deeply shadowed and bloodshot. There was an infinitesimal slump in his usual perfect posture and his clothes hung a little loose, as if he hadn't been eating lately. His normal blank expression was tainted with weariness and deep sorrow; even Gibbs couldn't completely control his grief.

"You look… like you need coffee," she said carefully. "I can run down to your caffeine dealer while you're with the director; if you want, I mean?"

Gibbs' glacial features softened slightly. "Make it a double, Kate," he said as he strode away.

"Well, it's an improvement on Agent Todd," she thought, as she picked her bag up again and went back to the elevator.

/\/\/\

Mercifully, Gibbs' meeting with the director was brief; so his coffees were still hot when he got back to his desk. There was a jumbo Caff Pow sitting beside them and McGee and Kate were waiting anxiously for him at their desks. He had no doubt the whole building knew of his return by now.

"What time did you get here, McGee?" He barked.

"0700, boss." Neither could miss his unmistakable flinch at the honorific. "I was, uh, in the lab with Abby."

"You do not get paid to visit with Abby, McGee. I expect you at your desk on time in future."

"Yes, bo... uh, Gibbs."

"Good." Gibbs poured the first coffee down his throat in a single impossibly long gulp and then picked up the second and Abby's soda. "We're off the rotation for now," he said gruffly. "Carry on with those cold cases you were working on."

As soon as he was out of sight, Kate and McGee exchanged worried looks.

"I'm calling Ducky," said Kate decisively, reaching for her desk phone.

/\/\/\

Abby sat slumped at her desk, her black hair loose around her shoulders, chin resting on her hands as saxophone music swelled around her. She was staring at an image of Gibbs and Tony on her screen; obviously taken at a crime scene. Tony was wearing his 'innocent' expression and Gibbs was standing behind him, a rare fond smile pulling at his lips as he reached out to smack him. She didn't even look up at the rattle of ice.

"McGee's already been by, Ducky," she said, gloomily. "Just stick it in the refrigerator for me?"

"Thought you liked my presents best, Abbs?" Said Gibbs.

Suddenly he had an armful of frantic Goth, who seemed determined to hug him to death. He almost spilled his coffee.

"Gibbs! You're home! Oh, I missed you so much! How could you leave at a time like this? I've been worried sick! Where did you go? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Can't breathe, Abby," he managed.

She let go and stood before him, hands on hips and green eyes flashing. "I want answers, Mister," she said threateningly.

"Family hunting cabin, up in the mountains. 'S mine now; I don't think anyone else knows it's there."

"Ok, that's the where," she replied. "Now for the why."

"I needed some time to think."

"And you couldn't think in your own house? You had to run off in the middle of the night, not tell us where you were and leave us all to worry?"

"Too many memories in my house, Abby. I wanted to be somewhere Tony wasn't."

"What did you do?"

"Fished. Mended the roof. Evicted some of the local wildlife. I haven't been up there in years. And I thought about things."

"Like the fact you'd abandoned us when we needed you most?"

"Like whether I wanted to come back at all." No need to tell her how permanently he'd considered leaving them.

Her mouth dropped open and the fiery eyes were doused by tears. "You thought about leaving us for good?"

"Thought, yes. But I'm here to stay, Abbs."

"D'you promise? On your word as a Marine?"

He met her eyes with his own icy blue ones; and Abby could see a flicker of the fire that had once filled them. "I promise on my word to _you_," he said decisively.

"Good. Because I need you here." She stepped back into his arms, suddenly feeling like maybe, one day, everything might be OK again.

"I know," he told her softly, holding tight to the one person he had left to anchor him to the world.

/\/\/\

Did you like Kate's thoughts on her own funeral or was it too contrived? And Abby's ranting at Gibbs?


	16. Depression

Woohoo! 200 reviews! You guys rock!

/\/\/\

Chapter 16: Depression

Gibbs had sent Kate and McGee home at a reasonable hour every day since his return; clearly, they hated it. Each dawdled at their desks, packing up and stacking files. Kate had even worked up the courage to ask if he wanted to come get dinner with them once or twice.

He'd refused, of course. Gibbs knew they were worried about him; Ducky, Abby and even Fornell kept telling him he looked like hell and trying to make him eat or sleep. Gibbs' eating habits had been irregular before Tony's death; now, he barely remembered to force something down every day. And as for sleeping...

Every time he closed his eyes, Gibbs saw Tony. Sometimes it was as if he'd never been gone; others he'd turn up with some improbable explanation for his faked death. But every dream ended the same way. Tony would be there, and then he'd be killed, right in front of Gibbs' eyes. He'd watched him shot, stabbed, drowned, strangled, get blown up, fall from a high building, cough his life away like Ben the mail boy after the letter incident that had occurred while he was away. He could just imagine Tony opening a letter with lipstick on it, even if it wasn't addressed to him.

And every time, he would just watch. There was never any way he could save Tony; and he was aware enough to know it was driving him slowly insane.

Still... there was a part of him that almost looked forward to the dreams. For those few, brief, precious moments, Tony would be there, warm and vibrant and so completely alive. Despite the agony of losing him again so soon, it was almost worth it.

Gibbs sighed, and opened one of Kate's reports from the week before. And froze.

Slipped inside, in front of the neatly typed text, was a sheet from Kate's sketch pad. It was a portrait of Tony, capturing his most brilliant smile in painstaking detail, down to the sparkle in his eyes. The graphite pinned the essence of DiNozzo to the paper; a ghostly image of something lost forever.

When he could tear his eyes from Tony's face, Gibbs read the line scribbled underneath.

_You're not the only one, Gibbs. Get some sleep. _

He grunted, and pulled the sheet out of the file. Maybe it would do him some good. He looked up, hiding the picture, as a figure approached.

"Agent Gibbs," said Morrow, stopping in front of his desk. "You're here late."

Gibbs knew what was coming. The director had been dropping hints since he'd first got back; he'd simply chosen to ignore them.

"I was just about to head out, sir."

"Good. You look exhausted. There is something I want to discuss with you; you know your team can't stay on desk duty indefinitely. If I'd known how to contact you, I'dve called you back in to investigate the biological attack."

"Your answer is no," stated Gibbs flatly.

"It's been six weeks, Gibbs. I know you were fond of DiNozzo; we all were, but…"

"You want me to look for a replacement. No."

"It's going to have to happen sooner or later, Jethro. Neither of your people have enough experience to be promoted to Senior Field Agent. You're shorthanded, and that's dangerous; too dangerous to let you work as a three man team."

"Anthony DiNozzo was unique, Director. If you'd known him like I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Your team needs to move on, Gibbs; and so do you. Keeping DiNozzo's desk untouched as some kind of shrine isn't healthy." Morrow paused.

"Either you start looking, Special Agent Gibbs, or I'll assign you someone and order the whole team into bereavement counselling; you included," he threatened.

"Sir, yes, sir," said Gibbs, rising fluidly to his feet and marching to the elevator, picture in hand. He hit the button as if he had a personal grudge against it.

"Jethro…" Morrow had followed; he laid a hand on the former Marine's shoulder. "I truly am sorry; but my hands are tied. Just think about it?"

The doors slid open and Gibbs stepped inside before answering.

"Family can't be replaced, Tom," he said simply.

/\/\/\

Director Morrow watched the doors close on Gibbs, deep sadness in his eyes. He knew the man well; and he knew how much DiNozzo had meant to him.

Replacing DiNozzo would be damn difficult. Filling a dead agent's shoes was always hard, but Tony hadn't just been another agent to his teammates. He'd been a friend, a brother, and to Gibbs, the son he'd never had. Throwing a new agent straight into the void left by his sudden death wouldn't benefit anyone.

Unless… he used an agent the team had worked with before. Someone Gibbs trusted, and wouldn't regard as trying to take Tony's place. On a temporary basis, perhaps, until the group had regained some equilibrium.

And he knew just the guy. Morrow turned to head back up to his office. He needed to make a phone call.

/\/\/\

Gibbs hit the emergency stop in the elevator and sighed deeply, slumping against the wall and then sliding down it in a rare show of weakness. Intellectually, he knew Morrow was right. McGee wasn't ready for a full field agent position yet. Kate didn't have the confidence or the experience to be his second the way Tony had been. And both of them regarded Gibbs carefully, as if he were about to explode; which he frequently was, these days. Tony had had a way of relieving tension; he'd do or say something dumb, Gibbs would smack him, or yell at him, and the pressure would be broken. Few people would recognise that he did this deliberately; Tony had always been smarter than he let on. Gibbs had always wondered where he'd picked up the habit.

He didn't want a replacement. He just wanted his cheerful, irritating Tony back, with that 1000 watt grin and irrefutable boyish charm.

Gibbs looked at the picture once more, remembering the many times he'd seen that smile; and the fact that he'd never see it again.

To himself, he could admit that he was going through the motions, pretending that Tony was just on vacation or something. He never mentioned his name, never let himself so much as look at his desk; at least, while he was being observed. He did his best to mask his pain and act as normally as possible, for the sake of his team. When he was alone, it was a different matter. Sometimes all he could do was sit in his basement and let himself teeter on the brink of the abyss, so warm and alluring. All he had to do was step over the edge and he could be with his family again; Mom and Dad, Shannon and Kelly… And Tony. Sometimes he thought he could hear their voices, calling him to give in, to let go. It was only thinking of Abby's tears that kept him holding on. He'd made her a promise, and he wasn't about to break it, no matter how cold and empty he felt inside.

It was fortunate that there was virtually no one left in the building. No one noticed how long the elevator was out of commission while Gibbs wept silently, the cold of the metal seeping through his clothes to mingle with the chill in his heart.

/\/\/\

Too cheesy? I thought so; but that was just the way it wrote itself.


	17. Denial, Revisited

I thought some of your awesome reviews needed personal answers this time...

Trivette: The letter's gonna have to wait for the sequel, I'm afraid.

Dolphinsiren: Actually I'm nearly 21 now, but thanks for the compliments.

Sirabella: I completely agree with you. This is the penultimate chapter.

/\/\/\

Chapter 17: Denial, Revisited.

/\/\/\

Gibbs was still working at his desk in the bullpen well after midnight, the room empty and dark around him. It had become a regular occurrence; boatbuilding had lost its appeal and he needed a distraction from thinking about Tony. At least Morrow had stopped mentioning a replacement; much to Gibbs' relief.

Gibbs still saw the younger man everywhere he looked. The desk across from his was Tony's, down to the healthy coating of green mould living in the bottom of his coffee mug. Every single day, he still found himself waiting for an irreverent 'on your six, boss'; for movie references or a squeal from Kate as he made a particularly sexist comment.

The brush of soft hair through his fingers as he smacked Tony on the head…

Gibbs gave in and unlocked the top drawer of his desk. Inside were his own badge and gun, and a small, lockable wooden box he'd made himself. Almost reverently, Gibbs opened it. He pulled out the mangled piece of metal that had been Tony's service weapon, stroking his fingers over it gently. Then he reached in again to pull out Tony's charred leather ID wallet and badge. He flipped it open carefully; a fond smile twitching at his lips. The picture had never done Tony justice; he'd definitely belonged in Technicolor, 3D and surround sound. The smile left his face as he remembered why he was holding it.

He closed the wallet up and put it and the weapon away with the utmost care, before locking it up again, safe and secure, like Tony should have been. And then from underneath the box he pulled out Tony's case file.

Gibbs didn't know why, but his gut told him something wasn't quite right about Tony's death. It just felt too neat; every question had an obvious, reasonable explanation. And the one thing DiNozzo had never been was tidy.

Still, the others didn't need to know about his suspicions. All of them were grieving; and introducing question marks over Tony's death wasn't going to help anyone; until he had something concrete, at least. And if it turned out he was wrong, there'd be no pitying looks, no whispers that maybe the mighty Gibbs was losing it. Work was the only distraction he had; he couldn't afford to lose his job.

Gibbs opened the file and began to read, for what felt like the millionth time. He could almost recite the text from memory by now. The words began to swim on the page; he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Contrary to NCIS legend, even he couldn't run on coffee indefinitely. He just needed to close his eyes for a few minutes…

/\/\/\

"Three am's a little late even for you when there's no active cases, boss," came a very familiar voice, waking Gibbs from his impromptu nap. "Anyone'd think you didn't have a home to go to."

"Then what are you doing here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair… and then remembered. His head shot up, fixing his gaze on the tall figure leaning casually against his desk.

"They made you think I was dead, I know," Tony said conversationally.

"Who did?" Managed Gibbs, when he'd remembered how to speak.

"Ari and his buddies; they wanted you pulled from active cases for a while. The FBI raided their bat cave and rescued me; not on purpose, of course. They didn't even know who Ari was working for, let alone that he had a Federal Agent tied up in his basement."

"You're ok? They didn't hurt you?"

"Nope. Chloroform. Ari was planning on using me as a human shield and bargaining chip later on. It was surprisingly easy for them to fake my death; they only had to hack into our computers and change my DNA records. So how're things around here? Coping without me?"

Gibbs got to his feet and rounded the desk to cup Tony's face in his hands. When he spoke, he couldn't control the slight tremble in his voice.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ do that to me again, DiNozzo," he said, pulling Tony into a brief, hard hug. Gibbs just allowed himself to hold him for a moment, relishing his warmth, his weight, his smell; his sheer thereness.

"Wow, boss," said Tony when he let go, his own voice shaky. "Guess you must have missed me."

"I've told you before, Tony," said Gibbs, a true smile forming on his features for the first time in weeks. "As far as I'm concerned, you are irreplaceable."

"With a welcome like this to look forward to, I'll have to die more often." As they had both known it would, Gibbs' hand came up to smack the back of Tony's head.

"Didn't I just tell you not to do that?" He demanded, trying to sound annoyed.

Tony's biggest grin had taken over his face as Gibbs' hand connected. "Yeah, but I missed getting headslapped," he said, then frowned. "Should I be worried?"

"I don't think anyone could call your thought processes normal, DiNozzo," Gibbs teased warmly.

A gunshot shattered the air around them.

Tony collapsed onto Gibbs, bringing both of them to the ground. Gibbs sat up as best he could under his weight and reached for his weapon while he twisted around to scan for the shooter.

Ari stood casually in the middle of the bullpen, gun still outstretched.

"You never could protect the ones you love, Gibbs," he said. "I would've thought you'd learned that the first time." The terrorist turned and walked away, leaving the two agents alone on the cheap industrial carpeting.

Gibbs took Tony's shoulder gently, turning him over. "Tony? Tony, can you hear me?"

There was a large red stain growing rapidly on his chest, right over his heart. Even as he watched, Gibbs saw the brilliant eyes glaze over.

"No…" he managed. "No, Tony, not you… please, not you… please…" He gathered the young man into his arms and held him close, rocking gently as the first tear burned its way down his cheek. "Tony…"

Gibbs jerked awake, disorientated and distressed, almost falling out of his chair before his surroundings registered. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again, the bullpen empty around him. He ran shaking hands through his silver hair, took a few deep breaths and then rose, turning off the computer and putting away his paperwork. He glanced at the clock, lips twisting into a wry smile as he saw that it was indeed 3am. Apparently Tony was still watching his six, even from beyond the grave.

/\/\/\

It wasn't until he was almost home that it hit him. Tony had given him the answer, with his usual eccentric logic; even as an imaginary dream character, he was still a great field agent. And there was a way he could prove it…

/\/\/\

Will Gibbs' dream hold the answer? Or is it just another symptom of his grief? Only one chapter left...


	18. DNA Does Not Lie

Wow. You guys rock! Many, many thanks to all my reviewers; and if you haven't left me a note yet, this is your last chance.

I'm particularly impressed that I managed to distract an Irish rugby fan from the match. (If you don't watch rugby, it's pretty much thirty very large and muscly men in tiny shorts mud wrestling. I'm a big fan.)

Chapter 18: DNA Does Not Lie

/\/\/\

When Abby arrived for work the next morning, she found Gibbs pacing uncharacteristically in her lab.

"Hey, Gibbs," she said, surprised. "There something I can do for you?"

"I need a favour, Abbs," he replied, pushing a Caff Pow into one hand and a couple of small evidence bags into the other.

"Long as you keep these babies coming, your wish is my command, Bossman," she said, taking a blissful first slurp of the day.

"I need a DNA analysis on these ASAP."

"Sure thing, Gibbserino. What's the case?"

"There isn't one; unless you find something."

"So, no pressure, then. Am I looking for anything specific?"

"Everything; I want a full workup. Ethnic group, hair and eye colour, blood type, whatever you can give me. And I want to know if the samples match before you run them through CODIS."

"Are you ever going to tell me why I'm doing this, Gibbs? Because, you know, secrets aren't nice."

"Not until you're done with the test, Abby. I'm sorry, but I don't want you to jump to any conclusions."

"Gibbs! I am a scientist! Evidence rules my world."

"And here I thought I was in charge around here. How long will it take?"

"For your average forensics tech? Forty eight hours."

"And for you, Abbs, with double Caff Pow?" Gibbs asked, producing a second soda from behind her computer.

"Thirty? Maybe twenty four if I get lucky."

"Then I really hope we get lucky," he finished, pecking her on the cheek as he strode out. "Oh, and Abbs? Don't tell anyone what you're doing, please?"

"_I_ don't know what I'm doing, Gibbs!"

/\/\/\

"Said you had something for me, Abbs?" Said Gibbs, striding into the lab.

"Yes; DNA results on those samples you gave me."

"Did they match?"

"Nope; sorry, Gibbs."

He froze. "The samples… were different?"

"Both were from male donors with mixed Mediterranean and European descent, both had brown hair and blue eyes, but they were not related and definitely were not the same person. I've started them running through CODIS, but it could be a while before I get a hit."

Gibbs barely heard her. A wide smile broke over his features as he allowed himself to believe his gut had been right all along.

"Gibbs? Is this good news?"

"The best there is, Abby," he managed.

Abby looked confused; and then a machine began to beep behind her. She scooted her chair over to the screen… and then froze. When she turned back around, her face had shock, anger and betrayal written all over it.

"Why didn't you tell me one of the samples was from Tony, Gibbs?" She demanded. "Was this some kind of blind test? Is that it? Do you not trust me any more?"

"I still trust you, Abbs. I should've trusted DiNozzo as much. You can tell him I said that."

"You're not making any sense! Tony is dead, Gibbs; and I miss him too but you really have to stop fixating about the whole thing…"

"Abby, which sample matched Tony?"

"B; why does that matter?"

"Sample B was a swab of the blood collected during the autopsy. I got it from the evidence storage lockup myself this morning."

"So I've proved Tony dead twice? What good is that? Two wrongs don't make a right, Gibbs."

"Sample A was a swab of Tony's toothbrush, Abbs. If the samples don't match, it's because someone's altered the record of his DNA profile."

"Or, someone else used his toothbrush!"

"You ever used someone else's toothbrush, Abby?"

"Well, no; and I personally wouldn't but not everyone has my standard of personal hygiene. And why would anyone want us to think Tony's dead anyway?"

"Who would be able to change the DNA profiles?" Gibbs countered.

"It'd have to be one of the agencies, or a really good hacker; and I mean really good."

"There any way you could find out?"

"I could try; but McGee might have more luck. You… really think Tony's alive, Gibbs?"

"Never believed he was dead, Abbs." Gibbs kissed her on the cheek and then strode out, feeling lighter than he had since the phone call.

He hesitated by the door, and then turned back to drop his half full coffee cup into the trash; he'd drunk enough in the last two months to last him a lifetime.

Besides, having Tony back was the ultimate caffeine substitute.

/\/\/\

To Be Continued…

Mwahahahaha! Just when I had you all convinced he was dead! As if I could kill Tony!

(Sorry. ECWS is a cruel disease; I've been waiting to say that for three months. You can tell, can't you?)


End file.
